Tales of the Dead Tropics - chapter 13

Roy was sitting behind the wheel as Emma and I jumped in the car.  He looked at me challengingly, as if expecting an argument from me but I just buckled in and told him to drive.  A quick look behind me reassured me that Michele and Jessie were okay.  I fished out the mobile phone and rang Kaye's number.  My anxiety started to increase with each ring. 

"Hello, Kaye speaking."

"Kaye!"  I released a breath I didn't even know I was holding.

"Hello Lori!" I heard the surprise in her voice.  I rarely rang her while I was at work so she immediately knew something was up. 

"Where are the kids?"

"Playing in the gutter out front.  You know how they love getting wet and dirty."  Didn't I ever.  I closed my eyes in relief.

"Kaye, I need you to do something for me.  Go bring all the kids inside, lock the doors and windows, close the curtains and stay quiet.  Can you do that?"

"Of course."  She replied briskly.  That's the wonderful thing about 40 years of sisterhood - I didn't need to waste time convincing her of my trustworthiness or sincerity.  "Can you tell me what's going on?"

"Not right now, Kaye but I will when I get there."

"All right."  She paused.  "Whatever's going on - stay safe, okay?"

"You too, Kaye." I whispered.  "Give my babies a kiss for me."  She promised to do so, and I reluctantly hung up. 

I looked out the window for a moment, gathering my focus as Emma took the phone and rang her house.  It rang out unanswered.  She bit her lip but smiled tremulously.  "They're probably not even there.  Mum loves to go to Rusty's Markets on Fridays..."  She stopped suddenly as the realisation of what that might mean for her family struck home.

Roy glanced over.  "Uh, isn't that only a block away from Central?"

"We don't know anything yet, Emma." I interjected firmly, glaring at Roy over her shoulders.  "They might just be working in the garden."  Her face flooded with relief at the thought and she smiled tentatively.

****

Emma's street looked untouched by the dramas in town.  As we pulled up beside her parents' home, we looked carefully for any sign of trouble but there was nothing that hinted of danger.  The woman next door was unloading groceries from her car while a couple of doors down, an elderly man walked his little dog. 

The neighbour looked askance at our ambulance as we jumped out.  "Emma?  Is something wrong with your mum or dad?"

"Oh no," Emma assured her.  "Just, ah, hitching a lift with a colleague."  She met my eye and shrugged infinitesimally as if to say 'it was the best I could come up with'.

The neighbour nodded agreeably and started carrying her bags into the house.

"Oh, Mrs Moore, have you seen my mum or dad today?"

"Well, I saw your Dad this morning when he was collecting the mail.  He made one of his jokes about how he wouldn't have anything to read if it wasn't for all the junk mail he receives."

I grinned.  That sounded like Emma's Dad.

"And I think your mum went out somewhere.  I saw the car leave a few hours ago."

I saw the tension in Emma's shoulders on hearing that, so I reached over and squeezed her arm reassuringly.  Stepping back, I looked at Roy as he watched us from the driver's seat.  "Keep a sharp eye out, Roy.  Don't let anything sneak up on you and the kids."

He nodded abruptly.  "Trust me.  Ain't no one sneaking up on me!"

The door was unlocked.  Exchanging a tense look, we stepped into the house.   I immediately tensed.  The house seemed way too quiet but more than that, it felt...wrong.  I could tell Emma felt it, too, as her breath quickened.  Carefully, we peered in the living room but there was no one there.  I jerked my head towards the kitchen and silently we moved down the hall.

The small, normally cosy, kitchen stood empty and chilly.  I touched the kettle. Cold. My tension immediately ratcheted up several knots.  Emma's parents drank tea like it was water yet this kettle hadn't been used in hours.  Don't be ridiculous, I scolded myself, you're letting Emma's anxiety affect you.  Her parents may be visiting friends for the afternoon or something. I didn't succeed in convincing myself one little bit.

As I passed the sink, I saw the steel parang sitting in its block.  Emma and I had bought one each four years ago on a trip to Malaysia.  The heavy hatchet favoured by the infamous headhunters of Borneo worked a treat cutting through boney pieces of meat, like chicken.  Quietly, I slipped it out and grasped it firmly.  It's might come in use later, I assured myself, but I was careful to keep it behind my back and out of sight of Emma.

We headed for the bedrooms, placing our feet carefully on the hallway's wooden floorboards.  My heart started pounding like a drum as we neared the master bedroom.  Please, please let there be no one there, I prayed fervently.  I could see Emma's hands  shaking as she slowly pushed open the door.

The room appeared empty, but before I could breathe a sigh of relief, I heard a familiar sound that sent a knife through my gut.  It was the sound my old dog used to make as he gnawed on a bone. 

Tales of the Dead Tropics - chapter 6

As I plunged my stake through the eye of an old lady, I experienced a moment of pure surrealism.  How did a day that started out with porridge and babies become about fighting for my life?  How could I, who had never killed anything bigger than a cockroach,  be driving a stake through another human being? Reality came crashing back as the old woman collapsed at my feet, only to reveal another creature behind her.  As its blood-stained hands reached hungrily for me.  I screamed involuntarily and scrambled backwards into Jim's broad back.  Swinging around quickly, he immediately assessed the situation and shot the zombie charging me as casually as if he were playing a carnival game.  The zombie went down like a piece of lumber, giving me a few precious seconds to regroup. 

Emma cried out and I saw that one of the creatures had grabbed her by the hair.  Her eyes were wide with terror as she clutched her stake and struggled to turn around.  Without thinking, I jumped over the fallen zombie and launched myself at the creature.  We crashed to the ground in a tangle of limbs.  With desperate strength, I forced its head away from me while I struggled to sit up.  Releasing my hold suddenly, I grabbed my stake with both hands and plunged it with all my might through the eye of the zombie as its teeth bared in anticipation.  Blood and viscous goo splattered over my hands as the body stilled under me.

"How are we going?!" Biggs yelled as he blew a hole through the head of another zombie.  Around his feet lay a growing circle of bodies.  It felt like we'd been struggling with these zombies for hours but it must have only been a few seconds.  Jim coolly responded.  "Almost clear on this side."  A few feet away, B1 and B2 surged forward, blasting zombies with gusto, as Ken followed closely behind, supporting the injured boy with one arm.

Glancing back, I saw the first of the zombie horde coming around the corner.  A young woman in shorts, most of her left thigh and chest missing, ambled towards us. Oh God, a toddler stumbled beside her, both arms chewed off. A woman in a nurse's uniform, her face so chewed that I couldn't tell if I knew her or not, followed. In another thirty seconds or so, the horde would be upon us.

"Guys!"  I yelled in warning, my heart thumping so hard that I fleetingly wondered if there was a limit to how much terror a heart could bear. 

"Out of bullets!" B1 called out as he flipped his gun around and viciously pistol whipped a zombie away from him. 

"Move it!"  Biggs yelled.  I scrambled to my feet and saw the way ahead was clear.  A few zombies continued to amble out of the wards towards us but we could make it past, if we were quick.

Grabbing Emma's hand, I raced down the hall towards the stairwell, dodging the outstretched arms of the remaining zombies.  From the corner of my eye, I saw Ken and B1 pick up the injured boy and follow us.  I could hear Emma's laboured breathing as we ran determinedly.  Finally, the stairs beckoned just a few feet away.  A quick look over my shoulder showed the boys close behind - and immediately behind them,  the pressing horde.

Emma and I reached the stairs and paused to let Ken and B1 through first with the injured man.  As we turned to follow them up, a scream rent the air.  I jerked around to see B2 being dragged into the horde.  Teeth descended upon him and started tearing chunks of flesh from his body.  He screamed again in agony and terror.

"Do something!"  Emma shouted desperately.  Wordless, Jim turned around and took careful aim.  A shot rang out and B2's cries abruptly stopped.  As Emma stared at Jim, aghast, he shoved her up the stairs.  "Go."  We turned and ran up the stairs as the zombies reached for us.

To our relief, the stairs slowed the horde's implacable onslaught, allowing us time to reach the next floor safely.   

"Which way now?"  B1 puffed.  The young officer was looking pale and spaced out as he hung limply between Ken and B1.

I nodded to the right.  We hurried quickly but cautiously down the hallway.   There was no sign of violence but the heavy silence was forbidding.  As we reached a corner, I pointed to the right and whispered. "There it is."  Midway down the hallway, I could see the stairwell to the roof. 

As we quietly moved off, I suddenly noted where we were and stopped in my tracks.  The others paused and looked at me quizzically.  I felt sick to my stomach as I realised what I was going to do.  "I'm sorry, guys.  I have to check on the children's ward.  If there's a chance that any of them are still alive..."  I tried to swallow the lump of fear in my throat.  "I'll catch up with you as soon as I can."

Trembling, I clutched my stake hard and headed down the left hallway.  My brain screamed at me to turn around and I wanted to, God knows, but I just couldn't live with myself if I left helpless children to the mercy of those monsters making their way up the stairs.

"Shit." I heard quietly behind me, and turned to see first, Jim, and then Biggs and Emma hurrying after me.  "Let's make this quick."

B1 looked at us incredulously.  "Are you kidding me?"  He tried to whisper harshly.    "We haven't got time for this!"

I nodded.  "I know."  Turning, I trotted quickly down the hall without waiting to see who was following.  This was my mission and I could not blame any of them for not coming.

As I neared the entrance to the children's ward, I slowed and strained my ears for any sign of movement within.  Nothing.  I felt Jim's breath in my ear.  He nodded at Biggs who swung past with his weapon at ready.  My heart sank as he sucked in his breath quickly.   I followed him as he slowly entered the ward.   To my surprise, I saw the whole group was with me, even though B1 was glaring at me furiously.

My heart broke.  Bed sheets lay bloody and tangled on the beds and strewn across the floor. A sob escaped my lips as I saw a broken, torn body lying in a cot.  Its head had been ripped off its little body.

"Okay, can we go now?"  B1 whispered too loudly.  I nodded wordlessly.   As I turned to go, I heard something.  A rustle.  I held my hand up abruptly as I strained to hear it again.  There!  In the bathroom. 

"It's one of them!"  B1 said, raising his gun.  The men lined up their weapons as I ran forward and pulled at the door.  It was locked but there is always a reverse lock for staff access.  I flicked it and pulled open the door.  There, huddled in the bathtub, was a girl, about 10 years old.  Her eyes flew up to mine in terror as she scrabbled back against the smooth edge of the bath.

I flew forward to soothe her.  "It's okay!  See, I'm normal, like you." I stuck my stake in my belt, grabbed her hand and pressed it against my warm cheek.  "See?"

The fear dissipated from her eyes as she searched my face.  Then, she flung herself at me and buried her face in my neck. 

"Can we go now?"  B1 demanded edgily.  I picked the girl up in my arms and we headed for the doors. 

"Too late." Jim murmured, flinging up a hand to halt us.  He peered around the corner and pulled back quickly.  "They're here."

Tales of the Dead Tropics - chapter 4

A gurgled cry drew my attention.  The older guard was lying against the wall.  The nurse in me kicked in. I grabbed a kit from the nearby counter and hurried over to examine them.

"Call for help"  I snapped at Biggs as I ran by.  Kneeling by the older man, I struggled to stem the flow of blood from his neck but I saw the light of life already fading from his eyes.  Within a minute, he was gone.  I stood up.  "I'm sorry.  He's gone." I quickly moved over to the young man.  His wounds were more serious but not immediately life threatening.  I worried that he was going into shock.   

As I knelt beside the lad, Emma moved to join me, her red hair falling over her face.  "You saved my life, Lori.  I can't believe that you risked your life like that!"

I shrugged, embarassed, as I worked on the boy.  "Momentary madness."

Emma grinned, and with a professional eye, quickly assessed the situation in the room.  Her smile faded as her eyes settled on the dead guard.

"How long has he been dead?" She pointed.

I frowned, puzzled.  "A few minutes.  Why?"

Emma stood up, agitated.  "You've got to get him out of here.  Now!"  Her blue eyes appealed to the other  guards. "The ones who have been bitten turn quickly when they die.  Hurry, we don't have long!"

Even as she spoke, I saw the dead man's eyes snap open.  His lips peeled back and he lunged at a guard near him, sinking his teeth into the man's calf.

"Get him off, get him off!"  The guard screamed, fumbling with his gun.  Biggs stepped forward, coolly pressed his gun against the side of the dead man's head and pulled the trigger.

Biggs turned an icy blue eye on me.  "Either you are a shitty nurse who can't tell when a man is dead, ma'am, or I just iced a corpse. " He closed his eyes briefly.  "I don't suppose there's much chance you're a shitty nurse, is there?"

I shook my head wordlessly, pushing myself to my feet.  "He was gone."

Biggs sighed and turned away.  "Not sure how I am going to explain this away if there is an inquiry.  Then again, not sure there's any way to explain any of this..."

.

He passed Ken as he gathered his remaining able officers for a conference.

"Thanks."  Ken's sensitive face was drawn and pale.  "That stick allowed me to hold off Jan...those creatures until the officers arrived."

I accepted his thanks with an awkward nod.  It was hard to feel proud when I had abandoned them and run like hell.

The stocky blonde guard (I privately nicknamed him B1, with his pointy head and spiky hair) sent to make a call trotted back from the nurses' station, looking unsettled.  "I can't raise anyone in admin, or down in Emergency, the office..."

Biggs scowled.  "Everyone's spread so damned thin today.  We've been dealing with outbreaks of aggression all over the hospital in the last hour -"  He stopped abruptly as the same appalling thought occurred to all of us.  What if this was happening all over the hospital?

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves here, folks."  He turned to a bald man calmly chewing gum.  "Jim, go get a visual on what's happening downstairs in ER."

Jim nodded and turned to go.

"And make it quick."

Jim snorted. "Count on it."

My head was spinning. Surely we were overreacting.  There was no way this craziness could be happening all over the hospital?!  Emma looked pale.  Ken murmured, "Just a few of those creatures took out our whole staff and security guards.  If this disease has spread..."

"We don't even know if it is  a disease."  Emma said without conviction.

"Disease,  mass hallucination, act of God. Whatever it is, it kills people and then brings them back with an addiction for human flesh."Ken said dryly.  "I'm going to go out on a limb and say that it would be bad if it has spread."

 Emma shuddered.  I wrapped a protective arm around her.  "We are all aware of what's at stake here, Ken."  My thoughts raced.  What about the children's ward? ICU? Most of the patients in this hospital would be unable to defend themselves! 

Ken deflated and looked sheepish.  "Sorry.  Bit stressed."

I couldn't help myself.  I laughed out loud.  "That's seems the understatement of the day."

Ken grinned and Emma giggled nervously.

The sound of moans filtered through the doors.  We sprang up nervously.  "We need to move."  Emma's voice trembled.  "There are so many of them.  What if they get through?"

"We need to know what we are dealing with before we go anywhere."  Biggs came over to stand in front of Ken and Emma.  "Fill me in on what happened up here.  The more I know, the better I can deal with the situation."

Emma nodded and took a deep breath, watching the doors anxiously.

"I was lucky." She smiled a little, aware of the irony of that statement.  "The miners died within minutes of each other.  We left them on the trolleys while we cleaned up.  I was in the next room getting supplies, but Allana and Jan were in the room with the bodies..." She swallowed and looked away. "I heard them screaming and when I ran in, Jan and Allana were on the ground and two of those monsters were eating them, chewing on their faces, their stomachs."

Emma squeezed her eyes shut as the memories slid over her.  "I ran back into the supply room and locked the door.  They came after me and banged on the door for a while.  I just prayed and prayed and then I heard them move away.  They were making grunting sounds, like they'd gone back to ...eating. And then the screams from the other rooms started."  She shuddered. " I hid in the cupboard until I heard Ken calling my name."

Ken's mouth tightened.  "I was in the men's when it started.  When I came out, the others were already dead or dying.  That's how quickly it happened.  When I trying to get out, I saw Jan and Allana dead on the floor and the supply room door shut; I thought maybe, just maybe, Emma was still alive." He looked at her with a half smile.  "I had to know for sure."

She returned his smile.  "I've never been so happy to see anyone in my life.  I might never have let you go if I hadn't seen... "

"What?"  Biggs tried to urge gently.

"Jan and Allana.  They sat up."  Tears filled her sapphire eyes.  "No noses, lips, cheeks, stomach but they got up without any sign of pain."  She bit her lip. "I knew that they were dead.  Yet there they were...walking."

Ken continued. "When I felt her body tense, I turned around, and they were coming at us."  He shook his head at the memory.  "Thank God their faces were so messed up that they couldn't see very well 'cos they tripped over some boxes.  I just grabbed Emma's hand and ran right past them."

Biggs frowned.  "So your walking dead theory is all based on those nurses having more resistance to pain than you? Jesus."

"No!" Ken exclaimed. "We saw others - hell, Brian was dragging himself along the floor - and he'd been torn in half."  Ken choked and looked away.

"Go look through the door window, Biggs, if you didn't get a good look earlier." I said steadily.  "But I think you already know the truth in your gut."

For a long moment, no one said anything. 

"Yeah." Biggs answered heavily.  "Okay, then."  He turned to leave.

"Biggs." I said, unsure of what to say but knowing I had to say something.  "One of the paramedics was bitten this morning.  He began showing all the same symptoms as these things, shortly after.  It's probably nothing to worry about." I hastened to say.  "The majority of people who are exposed to an encephalitis virus never go on to develop any symptoms but we really need to get these guys treated.  Just in case."

He absorbed this new information silently and then shook his head.  I heard him mutter as he strode away, "I knew I shouldn't have got out of bed this morning."

It seemed to take forever but it was probably only five minutes later when Jim returned.  He entered the room at a trot, which immediately sent my alarm bells ringing.  I sat up, heart beating faster.  "Time to relocate, folks." He said, in his deadpan way.  "We've got dead people heading our way.  Most of the ER, if I am not mistaken."

Tales of the Dead Tropics -chapter 3

Instinctively I hit the security alarm beside the door before racing into the ward.  The hallway was completely deserted.  Images flashed across my eyes like snapshots.  A  mop in a pool of water.  A chair overturned.  Records spilled on the floor.  Coffee cup smashed. Bedding spilling off a trolley. What had happened here?

My ears were assaulted by the sounds of people's panicked cries ahead of me.  My heart began to thump.  I reached over and picked up the mop.  Quickly I unscrewed the head, leaving me with a solid piece of wood to wield, if I needed to.  And I had the feeling I would need to.

I sent up a quick prayer that security would respond soon and started to move down the hall.  The screams had stopped to be replaced by even more disturbing sounds.   Thumps, bangs, whimpers and growls merged with cries of pain and terror.  Swallowing convulsively, I clutched my pole tightly and peered around the corner.

A sight beyond imagining lay before me.  It was a few seconds before my brain could even make sense of the images it was seeing.  But when it did register, I couldn't breathe.  Bodies lay scattered along the length of the hallway.  Five, six? Hunched over the closest ones were three blood-covered men.  For a moment I thought they were trying to help the fallen individuals and then the truth dawned on me with horrifying clarity.  They were eating them.  I blinked rapidly to clear my eyes but still they continued to tear chunks out of the fallen bodies and chew the meat with such relish, that bile rose in my throat.  Their pale skin was splattered with the blood of my colleagues! The blood was in their hair, their clothes, their nails.

A groan drew my eyes to the victim closest to me.  It was a man laying on his back.  The man - no, not a man, no human being could do that -  the maniac  had his head buried in his victim's chest, ripping pieces of flesh off with his teeth.  Oh my God, he was still alive.  His eyes fluttered as he moaned again.

Slowly I pulled back.  For a long moment, I stood pressed against the wall paralysed.  I was terrified of moving, for fear the maniacs would hear me.  Then a new sound.  A door slammed and footsteps ran up the hallway towards us. A feminine cry of despair as whoever it was realised what she had run into.  I took a deep breath and forced myself to peer around the corner again.

Emma, dear bubbly Emma, stood a few feet from the scene of the carnage.  Beside her stood a young man whose face was vaguely familiar(Ken?).  Slowly he reached over and grasped her hand and started to edge backwards and the maniacs stopped their dining to stare at them.

Behind them, a young woman came through the doors, and then another.  With a sinking feeling in my gut, I saw the now familiar pale shiny skin. 

Emma glanced behind her and cried out again.  They were trapped and they knew it.  Without thinking, I flung myself around the corner.

"Hey!  Come and get me!"  I waved my pole and jeered in a foolhardy attempt to distract the maniacs long enough to allow Emma and Ken to escape.  "What are you waiting for, you ugly bastards?"

As the maniacs rose clumsily to their feet, I felt a thrill of satisfaction that my plan had actually worked and they were coming after me.  Then - sheer terror. They were coming after me.  Shit, shit, shit. 

"Catch!"  I hollered and flung my pole like a javelin towards Ken.  Without waiting to see if he caught it, I turned and ran for my life.  The doors loomed ahead, 50 meters, 40...If I could get through, I could bolt it and get help.

A raspy growl echoed through the hall just behind me.  Oh God.  30 meters.  Please God.  A door suddenly opened at the side and a bloody figure stepped through.  I cried out and veered away from it.  I caught a glimpse of ashen skin and a half chewed face.  I banged against the far wall and fell over an overturned chair. The woman lurched at me, hands clenched into claws.  From the corner of my eyes, I saw the other maniacs moving towards me.    I grabbed the chair and heaved it at the woman in desperation. It didn't even slow her down; she reached down and grabbed my ankle.  Screaming, I kicked violently at her face with my other foot until she released me.  Scrambling to my feet, I pelted desperately towards the doorway.

20 meters.  Suddenly the doors flung open and the wonderful sight of our security men greeted me.  I pushed past them as they spread out across the hallway.  "There are people down there that need your help!" I gasped.  "Please hurry." 

"Don't worry, miss" An older man smiled at me.  "We'll have this under control soon."  

I clutched his arm. "They're completely insane!  Cannibals."  He nodded and patted my hand reassuringly before moving off.

I drew back and tried to control my trembling limbs.  I took in the scene.  The woman missing half her face was reaching for a young security guard who pointed his weapon and shouted at her to stop. Two other maniacs were being circled by two armed officers while another two continued down the hall.  I prayed that they were in time to save Ken and Emma.

Suddenly a shot rang out.  My head snapped around to see the young security guard had fired a warning shot above the woman's head.

"What the hell, Jack!" The security officer standing next to me, yelled out.  "These are patients! Use your taser!"

I watched on as the guards fired their tasers - with absolutely no effect.  And in those precious wasted seconds, the maniacs reached out and grabbed the officers.  The woman sunk her teeth eagerly into the young guard's arm and tore a chunk out.  He screamed in disbelief and tried to fend her off.  Further down the hall, the two guards were grappling with the two maniacs that I suddenly recognised as the miners I'd seen brought in.

Cries rang out as the struggles became increasingly desperate.  The maniacs ripped into any part of the body they could reach- hands, ears, neck. 

"Do something!"  I shouted despairingly at the officer beside me.  A quick check identified him as as the officer in charge.  "Biggs!"

Biggs shook himself and pulled his gun out.  "Shoot, shoot! Defend yourself if you have to!"  He strode forward and and tried to find a clear shot.  The woman with a jagged hole where her lips once were, pulled the young officer close and sunk her teeth into the his cheek.  He screamed again but seemed helpless to fight her off.  Biggs pulled her away and aimed his gun at her.  "Don't make me do this, lady."

She bared bloody teeth at him and lunged forward.  He shot her in the chest.  She stumbled back a few steps then moved towards him again.  In incredulity, he shot her again.  Again she reached for him.  Desperate, he pointed his gun at her head and pulled the trigger.  The woman collapsed instantly like a marionnette, a bloody mess where her head had been.

The senior officer stared at her fallen body in disbelief.  Around him, panic took hold as shots rang out without effect.  "They aren't stopping!"

Horrified, I watched the older officer who had comforted me, drop his gun and stagger towards us.  His yells became garbled and blood poured from a ragged wound in his throat.  

Do something!  Stepping forward, I yelled at the top of my voice.  "Shoot them in the head!  It stops them!"

Another guard took up the cry.  "Go for the head!" A cacophony of gunshots followed as the three standing men desperately targeted the maniacs' heads.

As the noise died away, the officers stood surrounded by the corpses of the maniacs.  They gazed at each other, stunned into sombre silence. Suddenly, the sound of a woman's scream brought my head up sharply.  Emma! She ran towards me from the far end of the corridor, waving her arms frantically. "Run!  Run!" Behind her, I heard shots being fired and then Ken and the security guards came bolting around the corner.  They were looking over their shoulders and yelling, "Move! Move!"

In the moment of frozen inaction that gripped me and the others, I saw them -  a throng of blood-splattered creatures staggering around the corner.  It is an image that will forever be burned in my memory.  A doctor with arms that ended in bloody stumps; a security guard with intestines dragging on the floor; a young dark-haired woman (Oh God, was it Jackie?) with a gaping hole where her abdomen once was. One of the guards turned and fired wildly at them.  A bullet slammed into the chest of a middle-aged woman in a nurses's uniform.  She fell back into the crowd.  And then she stood up.

"Help the wounded!"  Biggs yelled, snapping everyone out of their paralysis.  "Get going!"  He grabbed the young man's arm and pulled him up.  We followed the other guards carrying the older injured man through.  I rushed back to hold a door open.  I waved at Emma and the others.  "Come on!" 

She was so close, I could see the flush on her cheeks and the terror in her wide eyes.  Not far behind her were the men and oh, so close, too close, were the monsters.  Their missing limbs slowed them down, thank god, but they kept coming...

"Hurry, Emma." I murmured and held my hand out to her.  Her eyes met mine and she  reached for me.  I closed my fingers around hers and swept her into a tight one-armed hug as I continued to hold the door open.

"Am I safe?" She whispered pleadingly. 

"For now." I answered truthfully as I watched the boys drawing closer over her shoulder.  And then they were through, and the guards were bolting the doors shut. 

Tales of the Dead Tropics -chapter 2

By the time I clocked in, there were four patients being examined in the cubicles and three more waiting in the triage room. The first lot of encephalitis patients had already passed through and been moved to an isolation ward.  However, I had been informed that several more Mossman miners were now showing symptoms and were currently being transported to the hospital. 

As I checked the status of available beds on the computer, Emma dumped records on the counter beside me with a heavy sigh.  "How much longer have we got on this shift?" 

"Let's see." I glanced deliberately at my watch.  "Our shift started half an hour ago so...only eleven and a half hours to go!"

She heaved another dramatic sigh as she reknotted her auburn hair. 

"Why? Got somewhere else to be?" I asked, amused.  Emma's chaotic love life had been the source of much vicarious entertainment for me over the years.  Blue eyes widening innocently, Emma leant forward with a cheeky grin.  I could feel another ear-burning anecdote approaching.

Dr Wilson hurried by and beckoned to us for assistance.  The ER doors opened and Dave and Bob, the paramedics, hurried in with one of the encephalitis patients. Big Dave had a rough bandage wrapped around his left arm while Bob had a wad clamped over a neck wound. As the wiry paramedic passed on the details of his patient to Dr Wilson, I got my first good look at the patient.  A man of about forty, strongly built, he was fighting his restraints, tossing his body to and fro as he moaned.  As he turned to face me, a shiver went down my spine.  If the eyes are the window to the soul, then this man had lost his soul. It felt like I was looking into a vacuum.  No sign of recognition, of emotion, or even a glimmer of humanity.  I had never seen such emptiness - at least not in a living person.

Without blinking, he continued to emit a low moan.  Emma patted his hand hesitantly.  "You will be fine, sir.  Just relax."   With a sudden twist of his body, he lunged across at her, teeth snapping violently together.  Emma jerked away with a startled gasp.  Groaning, he sank back on the gurney.  "Watch it." Dave glanced over. "This guy has already taken a chunk out of both me and Bob."

"I'm having trouble finding his pulse."  Dr Wilson mumbled, a frown of concentration on his wrinkled face.  He turned back as Bob completed his report.  "This patient presented with a high fever, severe headache and confusion.  He went into cardiac arrest half an hour ago.  We successfully revived him but he began displaying extreme aggression and irrationality.  As you can see, he managed to get a couple of bites in before we were able to physically restrain him.  Skin is cold and clammy, pupils fully dilated, temp is..." Bob hesitated. "low.  Sedation was unsuccessful."

Dr Wilson frowned. "Unsuccessful?"

The paramedic shrugged. "Two doses - no effect."

The doctor raised his brow but didn't comment on it further as he headed off with the patient to the isolation ward.  Emma and I watched in bemused silence as the patient continued to struggle down the corridor. 

"What do you make of that?"  Emma asked. 

I shrugged noncommittally, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling in my gut.  "Encephalitis has been known to make people aggressive."

She looked at me incredulously. "And did you see his eyes?!  And what about his skin - so grey and  slack, like it was suddenly too big for his bones.  Creepy!"

Looking sideways at her, my lips twitched.  "Is that your professional diagnosis?  Creepy?"

She flicked a rude gesture at me in response.

A yell jerked our heads around, to see more encephalitis patients being wheeled in, also struggling against their restraints.  Another bleeding paramedic called for assistance. Nurses and doctors hurried over.  I got a glimpse of blank eyes, bloodless skin and clawed hands as the trolleys passed by.  Emma raised her eyebrows at me as she hastened after them, promising further discussion over coffee later.

I shook myself and walked over to Dave as Bob was led into a nearby examination room.  "Come on, let's take a look at that arm."  Dave obediently allowed himself to be led into a room and sat thankfully on a bed.  

"Never seen anything like that before in my life." He muttered.

I glanced at him as I gathered my supplies.  "Really?  You know encephilitis can cause aggression and confusion."

Dave shook his head.  "This is something else.  This guy tried to eat me."

I laughed as I sat down beside him.  "Come on, Dave.  Never heard of a virus turning people into cannibals!"

The big man shrugged.  " Yeah, well, I'm the one who had to watch this guy chewing on the piece of flesh he tore from my arm.  He was drooling and chomping and watching me the whole time like I was a giant piece of meat dangling just out of reach...it was freaky."

I shuddered.  "Quit it, Dave.  That's gross."  I pulled away the bandage and whistled.  The patient had managed to tear a seriously thick chunk out of Dave's arm. "You are going to need some serious stitches, my friend."

"Yeah, I kinda figured that."

We sat in silence for several minutes as I cleaned the wound.  Dave clearly had something on his mind as he kept clearing his throat and opening his mouth to speak, then shutting it.  Finally, I sighed in exasperation and met his blue eyes firmly.  "Just spit it out, for goodness sakes."

Dave straightened his shoulders decisively.  "Lori, that guy was dead."

"Yes, I heard you say he had a cardiac arrest and you revived him.  What about it?"

He looked a little embarassed.  "The thing is we didn't succeed in bringing him back.  We'd given up.  Then he just opened his eyes and attacked us."

"Okay." I frowned. " Odd, but spontaneous revival has happened before."

Dave met my eyes. "I saw the heart monitor.  Even when we were struggling to strap him down, the monitor remained flatlined."

I blinked.  "Well, it had to be broken."

"Yeah.  That's what I thought.  Until I talked to the other guys over the cb and found that the same thing had happened to them.  What are the odds that all the monitors in all the ambulances were broken?"

****

When I left Dave, I was feeling a little worried.  He had started to run a mild temperature.  Bites are notoriously full of bacteria.  After giving him  a dose of antibiotics, I made him promise to go home and rest.  He assured me that he would head out after checking on Bob.

As I made my way down the hall, I ran into Emma.  She was bouncy with wide eyed excitement.  "Those miners are completely insane, I'm afraid!  It took six of us to get them into in the isolation beds.  A couple of the nurses even got bitten, nothing serious, mind you. Now we've all got to wear protective gear around the patients."  She chattered on eagerly as an avid audience of nurses grew around her. "We can't even sedate them; nothing seems to work.  Poor things seem to be mad with the pain."

"What's the treatment plan?" A nearby nurse asked.

Emma shrugged.  "Standard procedures but it will take a while to see if it is working.  In the meantime all we can do is try to make them comfortable."

"Anyway, I have to get back." She looked over at me.  " Meet you at lunch, Lori?"

" You bet. You know how I love cafeteria food. Highlight of my day."

Laughing, Emma wagged her finger at me.  "Still living on the edge, I see."

I returned to the office and took a quick look at the board.  Several people had presented with symptoms of possible encephalitis but that always happened when an alert went out.  People started seeing serious symptoms in the common cold. 

The sound of a rough cough startled me.  I was surprised to see Bob leaning against the doorway and alarmed to see how unwell he looked.  I hurried over and pressed my hand to his forehead.  It was burning hot.  His eyes seemed bleary as he tried to focus on me.

"Hey Lori, I think maybe that bugger gave me some nasty infection..."

"That, or you're on the grog again."  I took his arm firmly and led him back inside.  He lay down gratefully on the bed.  "How long have you been running this fever?"

"About half an hour, I suppose.  And I've got a hell of a headache."  He groaned. "I've been trying to find someone to give me some damned pills so I can go home to bed."

I sniffed derisively even as my thoughts raced through the possibilities.  Could this be encephalitis?  Could it even develop this quickly?   "You're not going anywhere, mister, at least not until you've been seen by another doctor."

Bob moaned in protest. "What did I do to deserve that?!"

I poked him lightly. "If you can still make jokes, there's hope for you yet."

I left him dozing while I hunted down a doctor.  Dr Bennett stood at the nurse's counter filling in a form, and with a little persuasion, agreed to examine Bob.   As I went to follow her, she shooed me away.  "The triage nurse could do with some help.  The waiting room is filling up with neurotic parents and hypochondriacs who are convinced that they've got this encephalitis bug."   I gritted my teeth and left her to it.  Truth be, there was a backlog of sniffling, groaning patients in the waiting room now, and I knew that Bob was in good, if irritating, hands.  I'd always found Dr Bennett with her Margaret Thatcher hair and condescending attitude a pain but I couldn't fault her expertise.

After sending home two patients with the cold and referring  another patient who actually could have the virus, I noticed a sudden flurry of activity as nurses and doctors rushed past my door.

"Excuse me." I murmured to the young girl I was with and hurried out.  In the hallway, there seemed to be struggle going on.  I heard a groan that sent a chill down my back.  The young girl peered around me.  "What's going on?"

I glanced down at her.  " I don't know.  Probably nothing but I am going to check it out.  Stay here."

She nodded obediently and backed up. 

I had a lump in the pit of my stomach as I heard that drawn out moan again.  It couldn't be.  As I neared, I saw that the staff had someone pinned on the floor outside Bob's room.  Dr Bennett stood near by, her perfect hair mussed, face flushed and deep scratches on her cheeks.  She glanced up at me and acknowledged silently what I had dreaded: it was Bob struggling on the floor under two men and two women.

"What happened?" I rushed forward to help them.  Dr Bennett grabbed my arm and pulled me back.  "Sudden aggression, disorientation...he tried to attack me and then a nurse."   

I opened my mouth to respond when there was a scream of pain from one of orderlies.  "The son of a bitch bit me!"  He leapt up clutching his neck and I saw Bob looking up at me.  But it wasn't Bob.  Gone was the sardonic, wiry man I had worked with for years and in his place was ...blankness.  With the pasty skin and the dead eyes,  I knew without doubt that he had been infected by the same virus that had ravaged the miners. 

Bob's empty eyes shifted to the woman holding his left arm.

"Don't let him bite you!" I called out. " He - he might be infectious!"

The woman squealed and released her hold, scrambling back.  The remaining two men struggled to hold Bob down as he grunted and writhed and snapped viciously at them. "Hey, I can't hang on much longer!"  One of the men pinning down Bob cried out.  "Jab him with something, will you?!" 

Dr Bennett grabbed an injection off a nearby trolley and pumped the full syringe into his thigh.   "He should be out in a couple of minutes." She said with satisfaction.  I knelt beside her, pinning down Bob's convulsing legs.  "Dr Bennett, if this is the same virus as the encephelitis patients, sedation probably won't work."

"Where the hell is security?!" Dr Bennett yelled before turning to me in irritation.  "Well, we can't very well sit on him indefinitely, can we? Go find security, will you?  He needs to be properly restrained before he hurts someone else or himself." 

I ignored the flare of anger and edged around Bob cautiously.  As I passed the injured orderly, I paused to tell him to disinfect the wound and get checked out immediately by a doctor.  If this was the virus, it had taken less than two hours from the time of the bite for the infection to reach Bob's brain.  That was impossibly fast.  Maybe Joe was right about the threat of an epidemic, after all.  I suddenly wished I could talk to him. I feared a doctor would treat such a suggestion with ridicule.  After all, maybe Bob had been exposed on an earlier job.

I hurried on.  For some reason, there was not a single security guard on the floor.  I decided to head upstairs to the isolation ward.  Chances were the guards had been called in to deal with more outbreaks of aggression. 

There was no one at the outside nurses' station, odd in itself.  Nibbling on my lip tentatively, I pushed the doors open.  The silence that greeted me was unnerving at first, but the sound I finally heard chilled me to the bone.  I didn't know what I was listening to at first but as it got closer, I suddenly realised what it was.

Screaming.

Panicked, desperate screaming getting closer and closer.